


Thinking of You

by idyll



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyll/pseuds/idyll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They dance like tangled sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking of You

Even from across the bar Faith can tell that she's only like Buffy in the ways that don't count: a similar build, hair that is reminiscent, features that remind.

The differences are what bring her dancing to the edge of the dance floor, then stepping towards Faith with coy confidence and sly directness.

She presses against Faith's side, a slight swell of breasts, the fragrant brush of a fall of hair, and a delicate hand on the bare skin where Faith's shirt ends. "Dance with me," she invites, and Faith follows, helpless and with intent.

They dance like tangled sex, and Faith isn't the only one forcefully deterring hangers-on of the male persuasion, and when she feels the press of something skin-warm and hard against her breastbone she looks down.

Her partner flicks the chain around her neck, shifts the dangling bits to her back, under her shirt, and smiles a challenge at Faith. "Never mind that."

"Yeah, never mind," Faith agrees because, whatever. "But give me something to call you."

"Laura."

"I'm Faith."

Laura is any number of combinations of conflicting tastes and scents, and Faith's head is spinning from the flavor and the heat, and she's starting to sweat under her leathers.

"Do you want--"

"Let's go," Laura answers, and they leave the dance floor, then the club, their fingers pressing shapes into the back of each other's hands.

Back at Faith's hotel room Laura is pushy and impatient, and Faith's never been the one slowing things down, grounding things in the here and now, but she's had it done to her enough, and she remembers the flash of the chains around Laura's neck and the eyes like an unexpected loss of gravity, and so she--

Murmurs _Settle_, against a small ear,

Gentles a hand down a trembling side,

And breathes slow and deep until the chest pressed against hers follows suit.

"I need," Laura says, unfocused and disarmed, and Faith nods against her neck.

"Yeah, I know, you'll get it," she promises, and falls on her back.

Laura's fingers are small and thin, but strong enough that Faith feels stretched to the corners of the universe, and they make room for themselves one at a time, until they're all in and the moment freezes--

Faith's legs spread wide and far,

Laura's hand ready to extend forward and touch her beating heart,

And their locked eyes, both sets terrified and knowing at once.

"I've never--" they say and break off.

"It's always been--" they try again.

"Fucking do me," Faith snaps, purposeful breaking of the moment, and Laura laughs, the shaking of her body reverberating _into Faith's_, right to her core.

"I'll do you so good," Laura agrees, "but then you gotta do me." Her face awash with a smirk, and it's Faith's turn to laugh because--

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

Laura reaches up into Faith, and Faith doesn't choke on her laughter so much as she pauses it for a later time, when she's not so busy recognizing how very _one_ she usually is, and it would be enough to break her into parts too small to reassemble, but then she's coming, waves like hiccups that stutter and stammer along her nervous system, and Laura is easing her hand out and grabbing at Faith's before Faith can register the loss.

"Me now," Laura pants, "me, now, oh my god, do it!"

Faith has reached up into herself before, and so she knows for sure that Laura is narrower, and it only takes a look to see that her fingers are wider, too. But Laura is wet enough that neither of those facts makes an appreciable difference, because it's easy as exhaling for Faith to tuck her fingers together and ease them inside of Laura.

And Laura makes a breathy sound, lets loose a faint exclamation: "I _forgot_."

Faith furls her fingers and holds steady. She's killed demons and people with her hands, with a single fist, and it's like a sacrament to punch forward and inward with a motion like a wave on a calm sea.

Laura's eyes are dazzling like dark opals, catching the hues in her hair until Faith sees all the individual shades of blonde and red, until she sees her past laid out in distinct strands. Faith forces herself to breathe steady, to move easy, and then all she can see are the whites of Laura's eyes, and all she can feel are convulsions like premonitions, and her laughter picks up where it left off.

*

In the morning, Laura's pager goes off and she stares at it blearily before breathing out in relief and clutching the tags at her neck. Faith's pager is only a few minutes behind and she doesn't have tags but she does fondle her stake while Laura is in the shower.

Faith goes to India. She doesn't ask and doesn't know where Laura goes, but they exchange PO Box and APO addresses.

Several months later, when Faith's on the verge of forgetting about Laura, she gets a postcard: Pikes Peak and Garden of the Gods. Signed LC.

Faith buys two postcards of her own--Tournai Cathedral--and sends one to Laura.

.End


End file.
